I saw that he was impressed.

"You understand, do you, Mary," he said tenderly, "that when you are
received into the Church you have God for your Father and Christ for
your Elder Brother?"

"Yes, I understand, Mr. Armstrong," replied the girl earnestly. "And
that's just what I always wanted--was to have _'folks.'_"

I retired in haste to the dining room, where Isabel was brimming over
with a new scheme.

"I've always found the housekeeping a drag, and it becomes more so every
year as my outlook broadens. I want to keep up to the times, but I never
have any leisure for reading, and our four eldest being boys, there
seemed to be no hope for years of having any one to relieve me."

"Mary's a godsend," said I.

"I wish you really thought that, as I do. She's quick and adaptable, and
I'm going to hand over to her a weekly allowance and let her keep the
house on it."

"What about her accomplishments--the elocution and the cornet?"

"They can stand in the meantime. Do you know, Davie," hesitatingly, "I'm
beginning to be afraid she hasn't a good ear for music."

"Why?"

"The other night when the Mortons were in she sat and talked to Frank
Wade the whole time Eva was playing."

"That's nothing. Everyone else did the same."

"But for a girl who is trying to pose as a cornet player, who thinks she
might earn her living leading a church choir with one, it's bad policy,
to say the least of it."

"Earn her living! I asked Joe Mitchell, when he was listening to her
practicing out in the summer-house, what he thought of her playing, and
he said she'd better keep to a penny whistle."

"Very rude of him!"

"No, it wasn't. I asked him point blank if I should be justified in
paying for the more lessons she wants, and he said decidedly I should
not."

"Well," said Belle wearily, "we'll try the housekeeping. That's a
woman's true vocation, according to orthodox ideas. I shouldn't have set
my heart on Mary turning out to be anything extraordinary. If she'll
only be kind of half decent, and help me out with the housework, I'll be
more than satisfied."

The sense of power gave new brightness to Mary's fair face, and her step
through the house was of the lightest during the next week or two, but
the boys rebelled in turn.

"_Mam_ma! Mary's locked the pantry. Must we go to her for the key
whenever we want anything?"

"I call it a mean shame!" from Joe.

"What were you doing?"

"We didn't do nothin', on'y eat up the pi